


And If We Should Succeed

by TheUntitledWritingProject



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon typical violent, F/M, The Ninth AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25816948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUntitledWritingProject/pseuds/TheUntitledWritingProject
Summary: "....it is time. For humanity to continue on. To force an evolution that will allow it to thrive far beyond the war which now plagues it!" thus rang out the announcement on July 31st, 2077. Months before the bombs would fall, the powers at be made the executive decision to shut the vaults, sealing away humanity's future for the good of all. Left with the knowledge human-kind was safely nestled underground, scientists and engineers turned to their best hope of winning a war fought for too long. And those working on the FEV virus had more power and precedent that ever before. Eight strains. Eight types....more lives ruined than the apocalypse could ever hope to accomplish. And those that survived? Well, they did the best they could to survive with literal hell on Earth around them. Now, over two hundred years later, the last pure sample of human DNA is searching for her son. If she can survive the world around her long enough to find him.
Relationships: Female Sole Survivor/Nick Valentine
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

The knock came at before the sunlight, the creaking of his office still in time with the lazy wind that blew through the old slums rather than the bustle of people about it. Nick groaned as his servo’s kicked into gear, pulling him out of “low power” mode and forcing a partial reboot. He’d pouring over this case for the last four days, something about a missing daughter and his old pal Skinny, though pal was a bit of a stretch. And Skinny was way off the mark. Poor guy could have chosen a better name. No reason to compensate for something you shouldn’t have to be ashamed of. He stretched, trying to work out the snag in his shoulder joint while his optical sensors started firing up. His peripheral sensors told him he had powered down while sitting up, though the chair beneath him felt off, just a little too soft compared to its normal state. Perhaps it was time to find someone to check over his old sensors, though he doubted anyone outside of whoever build him had much experience with this sort of thing. He was a little more complex than the average mister handy. The knocking came again, a pounding this time, rough against the metal door. Wait, his door was wooden. His optical sensors flickered on just in time for the reality to come crashing down. An overseer’s office, complete with comfy brown chair, round desk, and pissed off henchman outside the window.  
“How ya doin in there Valentine? Feeling hungry”  
  
Ah yes, very original. Leave it to Skinny to find these sort of geniuses. He doubted anyone in this god-forsaken hideout was carrying strain 6, that’s for damn sure. Nick groaned, rising from the chair to stand cross-armed in front of the window. Ahh, good old Dino it was then. Idiot was up here more often than not, usually just to bang at the windows like a kid as a zoo. Well, Nick guessed he was about as interesting as what the average penguin used to look like. Can’t say he’s seen on recently. Couple of flashes from one of old Nick’s first dates with Jenny. Old hopes and dreams and all that. None of it his of course but they still popped up now and again. He opened his mouth, jaw joint grinding a bit, to answer when all of a sudden the insides of Dino’s head became well acquainted with the glass in front of him.  
  
“Shit” he muttered, falling backwards toward the desk, steadying himself against the smooth wood with his metal hand. Well, either Skinny finally had enough of his cheating or someone had finally bought his ticket out of here. A shadow moved across the walkway, heading towards him.  
  
“Hey you!” he called out, hoping whoever it was had some form of goodwill and wasn’t just trying to rob the place blind. Not like they would get much besides booze. Still, that’s all some men seemed to require. “I don’t know who you are but we’ve got about ten minutes before they realize muscles for brains ain’t comin back”  
  
The shadow moved closer now, feminine features rushing across his window briefly. The sealed door shuddered, opening up with a clank and for a moment, Nick thought his processors had shorted out. Soft, blonde curls framed dark lashes and soft pink lips that seemed to be straight out of an old-world magazine….if old-world girls wore leather armor over their vest and trousers. The woman stepped forward, leveling an old rifle at him and Nick had to blink a few times before his words caught up with brain.  
  
“Gotta love the irony of the damsel in distress scenario” he mused, lighting up a much-needed cigarette “Question is, why would our heroine risk life and limb to save an old private eye?”  
  
She paused before answering, not that he could blame her. Tears and holes aside, he still wasn’t exactly your every-day sight. She steadied herself quicker than he expected though, face going almost completely impassive as she spoke. “I’m looking for my baby, Shaun” she muttered, lowing her rifle.  
  
“Kidnapped kid huh, well you came to the right man, if not to the right place” he answered, waving out the match “I’ve been cooped up here for weeks”  
  
“Come’ on Nick….You tellin me you couldn’t bust outta this old joint” came a laugh from behind her, red jacket and nosey smile appearing around her shoulder. Piper Wright….well, that explained half of what was going on. At least someone he knew had known he was here. Ellie must have put them on his tail, though he’d never expected the reporter to run off chasing him rather than a story. Maybe he’d be the next headline. ‘Diamond City Detective found locked away in an old vault. Institute expected to be involved’. As much as he admired the reporter's spunk and willingness to tread where others were scared, even he wasn’t sure some of her headlines were quite on the money. Not that he would ever tell her that, of course. She was far braver than half the people he knew, himself included.  
  
“Well not all of us were meant for vault life, Piper. Can’t exactly pick a lock on the other side of a door”  
  
“It's not all it's cracked up to be anyway” the stranger quipped, leaning against her companion.  
  
“Tell that to Skinny and his gang….They seem to think I make a fine addition to the interior. And they do have the run of the place.”  
  
She smiled then, soft and smooth and more devious than he ever remembered a woman smiling, “Then perhaps its time to change that”  
  
Nick never thought he’d be able to describe a woman as hell-bent and heaven-sent all in one sentence, but she damn well made her point. They made quick work of the next three floors, leaving far more bodies than Nick liked to see on the floor. Not that they had much choice, mind you. There was little else you could do when a man was running at you with a baseball bat. Still, Skinny was not gonna be happy about this one if he managed to catch up with them. And with that new girl of his, he’d bet his last cigarette they’d be waiting by the door. Nick sighed, drop-kicking a rather pissed off thug with a crowbar, while Piper added a few more bullet-holes to his jacket. Their new friend seemed better equipped to hide around the corner with that rifle of hers, picking off half the people who got near them. She seemed damn good at her job too. Piper still had a half-full clip and he’d just started his second one. “Skinny Malone and his boys should be just up ahead….the names a bit ironic…”  
  
“Nice way of putting it..” Piper butted in, snatched up a spare coffee mug from the kitchen as they passed.  
  
“Honestly…nothing feels quite nice about this situation” she swept past them, leaning against the door, waiting for their next attacker to make his move. The coast seemed clear, however, and she was quick to move in the next room with the two of them hot on her heels, only to find more and more stairs. Seriously, who built this damn vault.  
  
Finally, the last damn door. Nick knelt before it, working his magic like he couldn’t before. Much easier when he could reach the blasted lock.  
  
“Wonder how much all these vault suits could fetch with crazy Myrna” Piper mused, tapping a full box of them with her foot, “What do you say, Blue?”  
  
Blue…not exactly the knick-name he would have chosen for their new friend. Then again, she was wearing a pip-boy, something he’d missed the first glance or two. Didn’t take someone of his occupation to guess her origin, though why she was out here was still a mystery. Who in their right mind would kidnap a kid from a vault? Not all of them had non-vault parents and could easily catch one of the earlier strains. Taking care of a kid was hard enough. Taking care of a type two or three was almost impossible, not to mention downright dangerous.  
  
“I doubt she can offer half the original cost of wearing one” their friend…Blue… sighed, glaring at the plastic-coated suits. “A couple of lives or two….all in the name of safety”  
  
Well that was something….Nick had heard weird things about vaults. Knew they were closed up before they were supposed to be. Old Nick hadn’t exactly received an invitation into one. Poor bastard had died in the third wave, as far as he knew, DNA boiled down into a gooey mess by an FEV he couldn’t combat. Not that Nick had tried tracking him down. Would rather not meet the man face to face. Or skull to face, as the situation would more likely be. Still, rumors of strange experiments and the like tended to trickle about the stories of the vaults, especially from the Capital and out West. One of the reasons he wasn’t exactly happy about his recent imprisonment. Skinny didn’t exactly know what he was dealing with.  
  
“Doors open…but I hear big fat footsteps on the other side”  
  
Piper sighed, leaning up against the wall. “Well, lets get this over with” She chuckled, bursting through the door. Nick sighed, following her through as their friend took one last glare at the boxes.  
  
Skinny was…well, himself. Dressed up to the nines in the most ridiculous way, and that was coming from a robot in a trench coat. The woman beside him was much worse, her dress sparkling in all the wrong directions under the florescent vault lights, oversized baseball bat in hand. And she seemed far more likely to bash his skull in than her beau.  
  
“I told you we should have just killed him!”  
  
Exhibit A, everyone. He could practically feel Piper rolling her eyes, Blue coming up to stand beside him. A smooth weight dropped on his shoulder as her elbow came up to rest on it, gun hanging lazily by her side.  
  
“Look at yourself Skinny”…she practically crooned, eyelashes nearly batting in time with her words. Damn, now wasn’t that something. Hadn’t seen that used in a long, long time. “Darla is playing you for a fool”.  
  
“You’re…you’re right”  
  
Well, there was always something to be said about the ways of women.  
  
“….I’m gonna count to ten”  
  
Best not rely on it too much, though. She booked it, Piper following close behind before his processors kicked into gear, dragging him out with him. Not his most graceful exit, that’s for damn sure. The night air hit him like a ton of bricks, the bright lights of the Boston sky at welcome sight after two weeks stuck underground. Piper was hunched over a wall, laughing her head off breathlessly, Blue pacing restlessly beside her.  
  
“Not exactly what I had in mind for a story, Blue”  
  
“Oh I’ll get you your headline some other way, Pipes” she laughed, turning towards the detective. “Though I admit we found a quite better prize than a new story”  
  
“Speak for yourself” Nick chuckled, bracing his hands against his knees. “I’m sure Piper would appreciate the story” He didn’t need air, no lungs to feel like they were burning from the exhaustion, but the action felt natural all the same.  
  
“Hang out with her long enough…I’m sure to find one eventually”  
  
“How about the one where you tell me how you found me?” he quizzed, straightening up.  
  
“You’re secretary, Ellie. She sent me”  
  
“Is that so? I should give her a raise”  
  
“Or at least a promotion” she chuckled, pausing in front of him. “Elizabeth Beckler” She stated, holding out her hand in an old-world gesture, guess those were kept up within the vaults. He took it, trying not to focus on just how soft that skin was.  
  
“Nick Valentine. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Beckler” he replied, pushing down some old reflex to kiss the back of her hand. Wasn’t exactly a gesture that was appreciated anymore.  
  
“Just Eliza will do…” She grinned, “Or Blue, apparently. If that suits your fancy”  
  
“I could just call you vaultie” Piper yelled helpfully, suddenly reminding Nick they weren’t exactly alone here. Damn old-world introductions. They weren’t exactly in a dance hall suffering through first introductions here. The bright lights above them were more than enough of a reminder. It wasn’t safe out here. Not on the ground floor outside of Diamond City’s walls. They either needed to go up of go West, preferably to his own office where they could talk this whole thing through, though any place was better than this.  
  
“While I would love to talk out your case, Mrs. Beckler” he admitted, keeping his ears open for any moaning or beeping around them, “I think we should do it somewhere not out in the open”.  
“Couldn’t agree more with the detective” Piper piped up, holding her gun at the ready. We best get out of here.  
  
“Back to the ballfield then?”  
  
“Come on Blue, its not that bad”  
  
“There are literally skyscrapers above us and you live in a ballpark.”  
  
“Those skyscrapers are for people more important than us…”  
  
“I find that hard to believe” She muttered, shooting Nick a gaze that ran straight through his spine. Yes, definitely trouble.  
  
At least the walk back was quiet, though. Save a couple of shamblers and one really strange settler asking for spare caps. Not that anyone had them to spare. Mrs. Beckler seemed completely mystified by the idea. Guess they didn’t regularly use caps in the vaults. Still, Nick felt much better with the great green wall around them and a whole hell of a lot better once his own front door snapped shut behind him.  
  
“Ellie…You here?”  
  
Her response he was prepared for. The crushing hug he was not, but it was welcome as always. So she had set them on his trail. She truly did need a raise, especially after watching her shove a couple caps into Mrs. Beckler’s hands despite the woman’s protests.  
  
“I think you’ve earned a chance to sit down and clear your head” he started, sitting down at his desk, the chair sinking just right under his frame. Damn it was good to be home.  
  
“Thank you” she muttered, sinking almost elegantly into the chair across from him.  
  
“Now…you mentioned you were looking for your son. I need you to give me all the details…no matter how, painful they might be”  
  
“We were…in a vault….” She started, smoothing out the ruffles in her pants like they were the finest dress.  
  
“Both you and the father were from the vault?” he questioned, leaning forward to rest his chin on his hands.  
  
“No, we were from Sanctuary Hills” not the answer he was expecting, but a clue none the less. At least the baby would have a chance, then. No fresh blood to infect. But why steal a vault baby? Unless it carried a seven or an eight it really didn’t make much sense.  
  
“I see….what was your FEV status?”  
  
“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” she sighed, burying her head in her hands.  
  
Wait….what…how on Earth could she not know? “What do you mean?” he questioned, fingers twitching for another cigarette.  
  
“The guard asked….first time I tried to get in. Piper told them a five. I don’t know what that means”  
  
How the….wait, Sanctuary Hills. Nick knew the place, and not from his most recent memories. Something old. Too far out of his reach to be native to his robotic brain.  
  
“Mrs. Beckler….are you from before the war?”  
  
Piper nearly jumped at his question, leaning over her friend rather protectively for someone who she couldn’t have known more than two weeks. “What….Nick…that’s insane”  
  
Eliza raised an eyebrow, a sad smile gracing her features. “Seems I did find the right man for the job” she conceded, nodding at him slightly, “yes…my family was chosen for vault 111. We were ushered in, told to step into a depressurizer….and then cryogenically frozen.”  
  
“Hold shit Blue!...that would make you”  
  
“Yes yes Piper…I’m over 200 years old” she chuckled, “though I think I’ve aged just fine”  
  
“Oh my God…this is totally going in the news”  
  
“So much for a low profile”  
  
“Getting back to your question, Mrs. Beckler”  
  
“Please…just Eliza. My husband was murdered by the men that took my son”  
  
“My condolences for your loss” he muttered, tipping his hat at her slightly. Piper leaned over her, wrapping her slim shoulders into a rather awkward-looking hug  
“Oh Blue” she muttered, earning herself a small pat on the arm from a rather distraught looking vault-dweller  
  
“Hush, both of you. We have a baby to find.”  
  
“Right, like I was saying…to answer your question. The FEV strains were released not long after your family was sealed away. Apparently some nutjob thought that the greater good was best aided by messing with everyone's DNA. It came in waves….one for each strain.”  
  
“I remember hearing about a virus by that name….but isn’t it fatal?”  
  
“The first strain is…. Strain two turns people green and none too friendly. Strain three turns people feral, stripping them off all muscle and most skin. Kinda like those old zombie movies. Not sure they are after brains though.”  
  
“I see…how many strains are there?”  
  
“Eight, as far as we know. Strain four does the same as strain three, minus the crippling insanity. Its also the only one known to degenerate into a prior strain”  
  
“I take it catching those won’t exactly be beneficial to my health”  
  
“Fours aren’t so bad. Most of them are better than the average genius walking around. Not allowed in Diamond City though…”  
  
“Whys that?” she questioned, cocking her head to the side.  
  
“Too many folks scare of something they don’t understand.” He shrugged sadly, rubbing a metal thumb over his eyebrow.  
  
She nodded, looking down at her hands. “I see” She muttered, pausing a moment in what was almost silent reflection. It took her just a minute to look back up, eyes a bit guarded as she did so. “So I’m a five?”  
  
“Possibly….that’s pretty much the average around here. Either a five or a six” he agreed.  
  
“Whats the difference”  
  
“Physical versus mental. Five and Six happened at the same time, best we know. Old Nick’s memories don’t exactly continue till that time.”  
  
“I thought six happened with seven” Piper quizzed, pulling out a rather ruined pad of paper. He really hoped she wasn’t planning on writing this one up. Telling people an uninfected vaultie was in their midst? She be murdered on the street before she had a chance to actual have a status.  
  
Ellie shook her head, “No seven happened with eight”  
  
Nick sighed, turning back to the two. “No seven happened by itself with eight not far behind once six started to wear off…”  
  
“Regardless!” she interrupted, holding her hands up in what was either an attempt at peace or an unnecessary sign of surrender, “Its safe for people to assume I’m a five…correct?”  
  
“Yes…it will get you into most places” The reporter explained, “ No chance of infecting anyone with anything better or worse”  
  
“Can people be infected with more than one strain?”  
  
“Yes” “No” Piper and Ellie spoke together, glaring at each other from across the room.  
  
“No one know for sure” Nick interjected, “….so everyone is either really cautious or just blasted lucky. My bet is on the latter. But it does bring up an interesting point. You and your family were never infected. And while your immune system may ward off some of the strains at lose dose, a baby is sure to catch the first thing it comes in contact with. Whoever took your child would need to be able to get them in and out of harms way quickly.”  
  
“But why us?”  
  
“I don’t know. Though pure unalerted DNA is rare, especially these days. Could be of interest to multiple groups. The brotherhood, for one…They arrived not long before you did…small groups for now… they mostly stay out of everyone's way”  
  
“For now” came a mutter behind him. Nick was far beyond caring who it actually belonged to.  
  
“Then theres the institute”  
  
“The people Piper writes about?”  
  
“Well they are the boogeyman of the Commonwealth. No one knows where they are or what they do. Not even me.”  
  
“So they build robots?” she was a curious one, that was for sure. And completely out of her depth. She knew next to nothing about the commonwealth. Nothing about what she faced now.  
  
“They’re called synths. And yes, though most look more like humans than yours truly. People are being replaced. Or so they say, anyway. No one knows for sure.”  
  
“And these people…kidnapped my baby”  
  
“Perhaps…what else can you tell me about the scene?”  
  
“There was a man…and a woman. The man looked right at me. Called me ‘The backup’”  
  
“What did he look like?”  
  
“Bald…with a scar over his left eye” and there it was. The last clue, though it was the last one he wanted. And the one he needed most. One more case. One more advance on something that just refused to go cold.  
  
“You wouldn’t have happened to hear the name Kellog”  
  
“They never said their names, detective”  
  
“Right…still too much of a coincidence….” He sighed. This wasn’t going to be easy…not by a long shot. Hardly the anything to go on and that was before the 200-year timespan in which anything could have happened. Hell, the damn apocalypse had. “Come with me…I think I know where we can start, at least”.  
  
She nodded, standing in time with himself. “Thank you, detective” she smiled, taking his arm as he headed for the door, her warmth seeping through the old coat that made up his identity. He just hoped he deserved it.


	2. Chapter 2

The door shut behind them with a soft click just a second after he expected it, Piper sliding out behind them into the cold Diamond City streets. He hadn’t exactly expected her to stay behind, though it would have been nice to explain things to Ms. Beckler without worrying whether or not it would end up in the news. The reporter had a good heart and a sold spine, but not everything needed to be everyone’s business. Especially in this case.  
  
Nothing about the Kellogg case was good. Seventeen jobs in the past thirty years, best Nick could figure. And those were just the ones he knew about. What few people had managed to survive the initial encounter with him long enough to get Nick or the police involved told tales of ice-cold eyes, one nearly hidden by a scar. All high-profile jobs that were wrapped up too neatly and professionally. They weren’t your common case of missing wife or stolen property. Everyone gone was someone you would think to miss. Scientists, inventors, prominent upper stands residents, and one schoolteacher. People that could have made Diamond City a better place. People that could have made the Commonwealth a little safer. Odd thing was, no one had been found dead after. But their family members sure as hell were. Nick was never one to bring his clients along for the ride during a case, too easy for them to get hurt along with their missing loved ones. Kellogg had taken advantage of that. Those who reported the disappearances were usually found dead within days, no matter if they talked to him or the guards. Poor Ezra Smart was found less than three feet from Nick’s door an hour after he reported his wife missing. Ellie had found him on her way home. Nick had never even heard the gunshot. He had reason to believe he was behind the disappearance of the McDonough’s former secretary. She’d gone missing far too quietly for a woman constantly under armed guard. She and his younger brother, though Nick at least knew what happened to him. It's one of the reasons he wasn’t so sure Piper was barking up the wrong tree with her synth mayor theory. Too many missing people. Too many incidents swept up under the rug without so much as a peep from the office itself, many before the fearless reporter was around to drag them to light.  
  
“Kellogg once owned a house here in Diamond City” he started, trudging off towards the abandoned apartment. “He had a kid with him, roughly ten years old. Both disappeared around three months ago” Ms. Beckler nodded silently, hand still wrapped around his elbow. He hadn’t meant to offer her his bad arm, the causing stripped up far too high for it to be comfortable, even with his coat padding it. But she’d taken it regardless, her grip firmer than one would expect from a prewar vault-dweller. Guess it took more strength to lug around that sniper rifle than it looked. “A rather odd location for a wanted man” she mused, her steps doubling to keep in time with his strides. “Were there never grounds to arrest him”  
  
Nick huffed, slowing down just a bit to keep from dragging her. “There were plenty. Trouble was, the mayor’s office didn’t see it that way. Each time I tried to get a warrant to bring him in, McDonough refused. Said I couldn’t go about profiling quiet citizens just because they had a scar. Didn’t matter who had went missing”. The mayor had never exactly been a fan of his constant snooping, that much Nick knew. Despite being a quiet as he possibly could about it, the man had caught him sticking his nose where it apparently didn’t belong more than a couple times. Not quite a much as Piper, but enough he’d been placed on notice a time or two. He still had friends in this town though. Good people who’d have his back, if for nothing else than to get out of paying him for whatever he’d managed to find for them. And not all of them were in the lower stands.  
  
“No way to go around him?”  
  
“None that I know of. Whatever government was around after they closed the vaults must have collapsed not long after. Each town, city, or group of shanty houses I know of governs itself. May be different outside the commonwealth, but from the way traders talk, the only place that has any sort of major organization running the place is the Capital Wasteland, what remains of good ol’ D.C. The Brotherhood has a strong foothold there, but even then, I don’t think they have a say in how each city runs”.  
  
“Sounds like Diamond City is the most organized it gets, then” she muttered, her other hand coming up to join the one clinging to him as if it was nothing more than a Sunday stroll.  
  
“Well it is the great green jewel for a reason, though it's not the only organized settlement nearby. Goodneighbor has a mayor, though how much he is actually in charge is a bit of a mystery to me. I think they mostly needed someone to pay the watch and keep things safe enough for traders. The minutemen used to be in charge of a pretty good chunk of the smaller settlements, though they were less a ruling body and more of a voluntary militia to keep each other safe. Didn’t stop ‘em from selling out to the gunners though.”  
  
“So I’ve heard. I met a group of them in Concord. Their leader is a good man, if not a bit nervous. They’ve settled in Sanctuary now. I’m sure Codsworth is happy for the company”  
  
“Another prewar vault dweller” Piper piped up. The reporter had been surprisingly quiet during the walk, though the notebook in her hand confirmed Nick’s fears. This was definitely going to be news by tomorrow morning.  
  
“My husband’s Mister Handy” Ms. Beckler stated simply, just a bit of sadness creeping up into her voice. “We didn’t get to take him with us when they took us to the vaults. I had hoped he would be taken care of when we left. We’d given him instructions to find my parents in Georgia and had sent them a message to expect him as well. Guess he never got around to it. I walked out two hundred years later to find him still attempting to prune the petunias, of all things. Kept the floor shiny as well.”  
  
The house they were looking for loomed over them in a part of town many had no business being in, far away from the guard station and well out of line of the lights overhead. Darkness all but surrounded them, pulling them away from the hustle of the marketplace. “Well, here we are. Looks like no one’s been by here for a while.”  
  
Piper nodded, stowing her writing materials inside her jacket. “Any chance the door’s unlocked?”  
  
“I doubt any of the three of us have that kind of luck. Let me see if I can get it open”  
  
“We really must talk about your skill-set detective” the chuckle that escaped the vault-dwellers lips was warmer than he would have expected. Most people found a robot that could pick locks to be a bit disturbing. She seemed to just find it funny.  
  
“Well you pick up a few things when there’s no one around to write you a warrant. Can’t always ask nicely.” He shrugged, dropping down to work at a lock that refused to budge underneath his gentle and then decidedly not-so-gently ministrations. “Seems like our friend Kellogg has something to hide though. This ain’t your standard-issue lock the city adds. Even mine isn’t this strong. Either of you think you can get this open”  
  
“Not exactly my forte, detective”  
  
“Sorry Nick”  
  
The old synth nodded, standing up straight before gliding over to the railing. “Not to worry. See that platform by the entrance…”  
  
“You want us to ask McDonough for it? You sure everything’s screwed in right” Okay, now she was just getting on his nerves. Piper’s little beef with their fearsome leader would probably get her killed one day, if not snatched. If so, they would be taking him right alongside with her. He’d promised her after she first published about the stuff no one else would speak of in broad daylight, she wouldn’t disappear quietly. He’d find her if he had to tear the commonwealth apart to do it. Very few people gained his respect the way she had. But right now, they needed help and the only known spare key was up in that office.  
  
“I doubt our friend here has been here long enough to earn his ill will Piper. She may be able to talk him out of it.”  
  
Ms. Beckler swished up beside her, dropping her arm on Piper’s shoulder. Very few people seemed fine with the easy touches that used to mark friendship back in the day, most expecting a knife to the stomach the instant someone so much as shook their hand. It was nice to see someone that open again. “Come on Pipes. If nothing else, you yell at him and I’ll pick his pocket”  
  
“We really should talk about your skillset, Ms. Beckler” He’d expected a smile. Maybe a small laugh. What he got was a cheeky wink and fluttering eyelashes that knew exactly what they were doing.  
  
“You are more than welcome to interrogate me at any time detective. You’ll find I’m quite used to the stand”  
  
Piper groaned, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the stairs. “Hey…keys now, weird courtroom talk later. Before you two force me to play witness”  
  
“We would never do that, Pipes…..it would be a complete waste of your talents”  
  
“Thank you”  
  
“You’ll be recording everything instead” Nick couldn’t help the full-body laugh that escaped him, Piper’s cheeks reddening beyond what he would ever expect to see from the reporter.  
  
“Oh my god, Blue” she whispered in mock horror, shoulder shaking as well, the joke apparently not completely appalling.  
  
“Be back in a moment, Mr. Valentine” came the call from over Ms. Beckler’s shoulder, the small wave she gave a bit too confident.  
  
“Try not to set the town on fire on your way”  
  
“No promises”  
  
Nick shook his head, propping himself up against the guardrail. Too many cold cases and not enough answers all relied on whatever lay beyond that door, hidden far too long from people who had died hoping for answers. So many broken lives, even before their new friend had waltzed in and started up the trail again. The match sizzled as he lit up a cigarette, the feeling of smoking filling his artificial lungs quieting his nerves from sheer muscle memory. Old Nick’s vices came in handy every once in a while. He’d waited thirty years, he could wait a few more hours. The light had just barely started peaking back over the green wall before the two came trotting back, arm in arm, brandishing a rather oversized key with the disembodied head of a prewar bobble-figure attached.  
  
“Well well, do I need to arrest the two of you for theft”  
  
“For stealing the keys to a house you are trying to break into? “Piper’s punch to his arm was well aimed, though the sensors there had been dead for years. Ms. Beckler shook her head, hand patting his shoulder lightly.  
  
“Relax detective, his secretary gave them to us.”  
  
“Really?” he mused, stroking his chin in mock consideration. “Now how did you two manage that?”  
  
“Piper may have gotten her riled up a bit with a few well placed….”  
  
“And true!”  
  
“…. accusations right before the poor mother just looking for her child swooped in.”  
  
It was brilliant, as far as schemes go. Geneva always did have a kind heart, no matter how many people tried to break her of it. The woman really did care about the town and the people in it. She just wasn’t always the best at showing it. Using it against her though. “Good cop bad cop, huh? Well, whatever gets the job done”  
  
Come on Nick, you gotta admit we did great”  
  
“Do I?”  
  
“Perhaps we should continue this conversation inside” Ms. Beckler interjected, the lock on the door clicking back with a heavy thunk. “After you detective”.  
  
The room was…well, rather underwhelming. A single bed in a loft, one desk, and a bunch of comics scattered around the floor. Kellogg had apparently just up and disappeared one day, taking whoever’s kid with him. Ms. Beckler’s had been stolen as a baby. Nick really wasn’t looking forward to meeting the parents of the one he’d watched walking down the marketplace with the old merc, staring at Myrna’s Mister Handy like it held all the secrets of the universe. Staring at him the same way. Evidence of their lives was everywhere. Along with nothing to suggest Kellogg was anything more than a single, albeit creepy, father. “Doesn’t look much like a merc’s hideout, see if you can find anything”  
  
Ms. Beckler didn’t seem to hear him, already focused on the desk just below the stairs. A sharp buzz sounded when she reached underneath, the red button hidden from view for anyone not sitting down. The wall gave way behind him, opening up to reveal what could be classified as a rather creepy armory, complete with lifeless mannequins that had Nick jumping back slightly when they came into view. “Well, that’s certainly impressive”  
  
“Oh my god…”  
  
Let nothing be said about the eloquent language of journalists.  
  
Ms. Beckler bent down, examining the side table next to the only chair in the room. Someone had spent a good deal of time in here, despite there being to residents to the house. He doubted the kid was a chain smoker though. At least not at ten years old. “Gwinnett stout….San Francisco Sunlights?” She muttered, holding one out for him. Nick twirled the cigar in his metal hand, looking it over for any signs clues she may have missed.  
  
“Interesting brand…. won't get us anywhere on its own though” Cigars didn’t exactly make good compasses, and he doubted Kellogg decided to make his new home the factory they came from. Eliza looked hopeful though, sniffing one subtlety.  
  
“I wonder if Dogmeat could track this”  
  
“You named your dog Dogmeat” the journalist quizzed, holding back a rather undignified snort.  
  
“The name came with him” because that answered so many questions. Luckily, Nick knew exactly who she was talking about. He’d run across the old boy a few times in his travels. Far more intelligent than it had any right to be. A damn good hunter too.  
  
“Good idea…some dogs in the Commonwealth can track a scent for miles. He’ll at least be able to point us in the right direction”.  
  
“I’m sure he’ll be happy on with the exercise regardless”  
  
Well, that was a plan at least, however hopeless it might be. Couldn’t be worse than sitting and waiting for Kellogg to find them. Or the institute itself. “Now…I understand if you need to do this alone. You’ve already got plenty of help. We can’t all go trekking across the commonwealth looking for the bastard. Three people and a hound would alert even a normal person, much less someone of Kellogg’s abilities”.  
  
“Let me guess, he’s a seven, right?” Piper smirked, leaning against the doorframe.  
  
“No idea. His jobs don’t exactly track to one pattern or another. Sevens are usually messier. He seems more like an eight.”  
  
Ms. Beckler raised an eyebrow, turning towards the shelves with enough supplies to keep a grown man fed for at least a few days. Most of them worth a good amount of caps too. “And that’s….bad?”  
  
“Well sevens and eights are like suped-up versions of five and six, respectively. Very rare, since most of the population at the time had already died from the immediate disease or were changed. I’ve heard of some sevens with strength that could rival the big green guys. Kellogg’s cunning though. And his jobs are usually done with guns, not sheer strength. He could just be a six with a lot of training. Either way, best to be careful.”  
  
The woman paused in her musing, turning back from where she was gathering cans of pure water. “Pipes…”  
  
“Its okay Blue, I get it. Besides, I kinds need to be here in case McDonough decided to go after Nat.”  
  
So she was in hot water. He never should have sent them both into that office. “Back on notice?”  
  
“Same threats different day” she shrugged, readjusting her pack on her shoulders” But with you two possibly pissing off the institute soon, I wouldn’t be surprised if our synth overlord doesn’t kick us out for causing suspicion.”  
  
“Just be careful, Piper. No need to get yourself locked out of the city.”  
  
Eliza smiled, pulling the other woman into a rather crushing hug. “If you ever need a place to stay, head north to Sanctuary. Trudy at the Drumlin Diner can give you directions. Tell Preston Garvey I sent you and they should take care of you and Nat. At least as much as they are able to.  
  
“I appreciate it” the reporter replied, squeezing back just as tightly before releasing her. “but hopefully we should be fine. Try not to get killed you two.” She waved back at them, heading out the door and towards the printing press, notebook already burning a hole in her pocket. They’d make news by dawn. Nick sighed, sweeping some of the spare ammo and stimpacks scattered around the room into one of the many pockets of his jacket.  
  
“Alright….now let's get this bastard”  
  
  
  
“Well…if it isn’t my old friend the frozen TV Dinner”.  
  
To say this was bad would be a gross understatement. Dogmeat had lead them true, stopping only to sniff at each new clue she’d presented to them. Old boy had even managed to ignore the ragstag herd they’d stumbled across, much to Nick’s surprise. Hadn’t been so lucky with the Yuo Gui, but one man could only ask for so much. They were both worn out and bloody, or oily in his own case, by the time their guide had stopped in front of an old army fort. Of course, he couldn’t just hide out in a Slocum's Joe or somewhere else reasonably safe. Nick would have gladly taken an old vault again over one of the most defensible buildings in the Commonwealth. Add in the slew of gen twos waiting for them as soon as they jumped down that old escape hatch and Nick was reasonably sure whatever good luck had brought her to that vault to bust his behind out was now demanding repayment. They were both a mess and quickly running out of bullets. She’d given up on her own sniper rifle three floors ago, choosing instead the energy rifle one of their opponents had dropped and the ample ammo she’d collected off the bodies. IT was clear she wasn’t used to fighting at close range though. She kept taking just a second too long to fire, and it had cost them more than a few stimpacks. At least if he broke there were ample parts to fix him with. He had half a mind to grab an arm off a couple of fallen synths, except he didn’t exactly know a decent repairman and he didn’t think the normal tune-ups he did with Ellie’s help gave either of them sufficient knowledge on how to rewire his nervous system into a new arm. Best just keep with what he had left. Even if it was bare metal.  
  
He was currently trapped in an old kitchen, hiding behind a rather rickety counter while a couple of synths patrolled the corridor outside. She’d run down the service door across from him, though what she hoped to find down there was anyone’s guess. They’d just split up when these two metalheads ambushed them. He could see her hiding behind the door on the other side, too much steel between her and their opponents and not enough legroom for him to take a shot at them and run if things went wrong.  
  
“Is anyone present?”  
  
The thing he was built from could not that that stupid.  
  
“My sensors must need calibrating”  
  
Apparently, it could be. Not exactly the best thing for his self-esteem. But at least they had given up the chase for now. The two knuckleheads turned, heading back down the center hallway. Ms. Beckler nodded at him from behind the little window in her door, dropping down to crawl out into the open. He followed suit, trying his best to avoid fallen chairs and whatever the hell was stuck on the tile. Place hadn’t seen a mop in well over two hundred years. He met her in the corridor, the laser of her newest toy bouncing off the back panel of one of the gen 2s, eyes trained on him. Heaven and hell blazed within them as he nodded, raising his own revolver at their second enemy. They fired in perfect unison.  
  
“Last time I saw you. You were cozied up to the peas and apple cobbler”  
  
Ms. Beckler swore something entirely unladylike and nothing Nick could fault her for. The synths in front of them had dropped like flies as twin shots tore through their nervous system. It didn’t matter though. Kellogg knew they were here. More were sure to follow.  
  
“Quite the host, aren’t you” she yelled out into the empty corridor, earning them a gruff chuckle over the loudspeaker.  
  
“I don’t remember inviting you in. Sorry your house has been a wreck, but I don’t need a roommate”  
  
“I’ll have you know my house still stands and my petunias are the envy of the town. I had never planned on more than a quick visit” she replied tartly, motioning Nick to follow her down the stairs. Well if she wanted to smart off to their eye in the sky.  
  
“You could have at least cleaned up a bit before we got here, Kellogg. Whole place smells like bad ideas and desperation” he called out, sending a lopsided smile her way. No reason to stay out of all the fun, especially with no place for them to hide anymore regardless. Besides, the old merc had sent Nick one too may rude gestures on his way out of the mayor’s office during an arrest attempt for the detective not to get his kicks in while he could. Something told him they were quickly walking into an him or us situation. And he doubted much could stand between his new friend and her lost child, institute hitman or not.  
  
“And it seems you brought the Diamond City Sleuth in with you. Surprised you haven’t accidentally shot him yet while attacking my welcome party.”  
  
“Your friends aren’t nearly as stylish” She shrugged, quelling the miniature heart attack Nick suddenly felt. This wasn’t exactly the best place to be surrounded by faces exactly like his trying to kill both him and the trigger-happy woman. He’d half-expected her to send on through his head the minute they had been swarmed. But she never so much as leveled her gun in his direction, trusting him enough to keep her back turned while they fired away. Guess some good came from the extent of his old wear and tear.  
  
“Maybe I should get them all hats”  
  
Now that was just cruel.  
  
She rolled her eyes, gesturing quietly towards the door in front of them. An old armory. Jackpot.  
  
“If you want them to look like me pal, you’re gonna need a lot more wear and tear and a couple of cigarettes before you even think about getting them some headgear.” He called out, waving his hat and the nearest camera he could find. She dropped low, sneaking past him to the terminal on the wall as the turret in the corner started firing his way. The door opened with a click and Nick ducked inside along with her, dodging sideways just in time for her to send a cell through the turret’s casing.  
  
“Nice footwork, detective” she chuckled, straightening his hat gently. “Though I dare say you’re right. These guys aren’t nearly charming enough to pull off your look”  
  
“Nah, just too new to compete with an old PI like myself. Shiny casing doesn’t exactly keep you hidden very well”  
  
“If you say so, Mr. Valentine.” His name should not sound that good. Hell, his last name should not sound good at all. He was Nick. Had been for as long as he could remember. People only called him Valentine when they were up to no good, no matter if it was Skinny’s kinda trouble or Irma’s. Skinny schemed and Irma flirted and this, this was too much of both at one time. She was too close and too far away all at once, her chest just a breath away from his, hand still resting lightly on the brim of his old hat. There was too much old-would in the girl. Something soft and subtle yet demanding and screaming at the same time. It pulled at the gentleman in the back of his mind. The man who had chased for years after another woman, same sort of soft hair and quiet demeanor. He couldn’t handle the reminder right now. She and Jenny were about as different as two women could get. But they both had held that same prewar politeness that made rules regarding women and men and she was skirting around them in a game he knew only from memories how to play. And she didn’t even seem to notice she was doing it.  
  
She shook her head sadly, backing up just a second before their stance would be considered wildly improper, turning to head deeper into the small yet generously stocked armory before stopping just short of a weapon Nick knew was made for nothing less than turning the tides of war themselves. Generously stocked indeed. Slim fingers curled around the grip, tiny shoulders balancing the biggest handheld weapon known to man. A vault-dweller with a Fatman. He just couldn’t have normal days anymore, could he?  
  
They filled their pockets with as much ammo and medical supplies as they could manage before sneaking further in, avoiding any more gen 2s but running into quite a few other problems before Kellog graced them with his voice once again.  
  
“Alright…my synths are standing down…. let's talk”  
  
She nodded at him, fingers poised on the trigger of her rather oversized weapon. They only had one shot, and firing it in here would probably just kill them both. He had a good feeling that she would blow them all to kingdom come before letting Kellogg kill them and get back to ripping families apart with his bare hands. Probably not the best plan, but it’s the only one they had so far. She gestured for him to stay at the bottom of the corridor, advancing towards their target alone yet still in his sights. He could shoot around her if he had too, though he doubted he would survive the encounter if things got that bad.  
  
Kellogg stepped out from behind a row of old computers, hands up in mock surrender that the man would never truly give.  
  
“Well….you’ve certainly gone through a lot of trouble to find me. Even with the detectives help.”  
  
“And you’ve certainly spared no expense in keeping me away. But I’m here now, despite your little welcome party. And you’re going to tell me…where is my son”.  
  
“Gone. I handed him over to the institute. You want more information, you talk to them”  
  
“How, pray tell, do you suggest I find them” she snarked off, placing her free hand on her hip. Nick would have chuckled if the situation wasn’t so dire. Old Nick’s mother used to do the same when she was mad. Something about a nurturing woman getting pissed off at her offspring didn’t change between generations, that was for damn sure.  
  
The gesture was clearly lost on their prey though, the merc merely shrugging in the face of pure motherly fury. “You don’t. They’ll find you when they are ready for you”  
  
“I’m not a patient woman, sir”  
  
“Believe me, I know, its caused me quite a few headaches” Well that was new. Best Nick could tell, Ms. Beckler hadn’t known about Kellogg, at least in any capacity besides behind a frozen glass door, before the two had stumbled here. The old merc wasn’t exactly friends of the family. He had no reason to talk to her with such….familiarity. Unless she’d known him before the war. Maybe he’d been in the vault with them. It made as much sense as anything about Kellogg could, except the fact her face wasn’t exactly shining with recognition. Ms. Beckler looked for all intent and purposes as confused as Nick felt.  
  
“What do you mean”  
  
“Nothing that you will get the chance to find out” Kellogg waved his hand, several synths rising from behind the maze of old computers, all with weapons trained on her.  
  
“I thought as much” she stated simply, leveling the Fatman at the mercs head. Nick swore what happened next was in worse slow motion than a prewar action film. Ms. Beckler jumped backwards as she fired, the sheer force of the weapon sending her flying back towards him. The one mini-nuke they had to their name landed just over her target’s shoulder, leveling almost everything in the room in one solid burst as her back hit his chest dead-on, forcing both of them into the wall. His arms wrapped around her on instinct, the metal casing of his right shoulder shattering with an audible crack as it hit pure concrete. The merc was gone in a flash, what was left of him rolling towards them in a rather macabre display, justice finally served.  
  
“Well, that wasn’t exactly how I picture that working” the words were barely more than a whisper, hoarse from the lack of air in her lungs. She slumped backwards slightly, head bumping the now jagged casing before jolting back up quickly.  
  
“Detective….I am so sorry”  
  
“Now don’t go worrying about me” he groaned, his grip loosening as she spun in his arms. “Hardly the worse thing to batter this old bot. Besides, the rest of the arm is bare anyhow, a few more inches won't make a difference.” The metal of the joint creaked slightly as he turned his arm, raising and lowering it as splinters of the outer shell fell loose in his jacket. The joint was still good. It would be fine.   
  
Ms. Beckler obviously didn’t think so, running her hands gently across the joint, completely ignorant of the blood running down her own face. A wide gash ran down the left side, splitting her eyebrow in an eerily similar display to the man she’d taken down to get it. “Please, be still. We can probably fix it once we get back to your office. I have some wonderglue if we don’t lose any pieces…”  
  
“Relax….it will be fine….its not every day we survive the craziest merc in the commonwealth. A couple of scrapes are expected.” He murmured, searching his pockets for any scrap of cloth to clean her up with. “Besides, looks like I’m in good company”  
  
Trembling hands reached up, smearing red across her forehead and she finally realized why her left eye didn’t seem to want to focus. She blinked, trying to wipe the trail away from it. “An eye for an eye, huh.”  
  
“I think we both came out a bit better than him at least”, he muttered, dabbing the cut with the cuff of his undershirt. It would be hell to get out later, but better than dying because his sniper couldn’t see clearly. “Come on, lets see if we can find anything on him”  
  
Their merc was, not surprisingly, unhelpful. The contents of his pockets were limited to more ammo than a normal human could carry and a rather impressive handgun that, while useful, knew none of its previous owner's secrets. Or at least, couldn’t tell them about them if it did. The contents of his head, however, were a bit more interesting. Cybernetics. Impressive ones too, by the look of them. Enough to turn anyone into a killing machine. Didn’t matter what strain he was carrying before. These little babies would easily outmatch anything natural. “Seems our friend here had a little help” she muttered, roaming around the room. One terminal was still active, green screen flashing commands despite its new position on its side. How it had survived the blast, Nick couldn’t tell. But it held the confirmation she was looking for. The kid was with the institute. Well….shit.


End file.
